Characters in profile
by nerpton
Summary: Some short stories based in the world of Shadow era. Each written in a different style. :)
1. Zoe Silversmith

Zoe Silversmith:

Zoe remained still as the man looked over her inventory. Weapons of every imaginable construction and enchantment, bows, swords, axes and staffs lined the perimeter of the make shift Armoury. After several minutes he turned, looked the girl up and down, paused for a moment longer, then spoke:  
"I hear you're the smith?" he asked already knowing the answer. Tales of Zoe's modifications had spread across the alliance. Her abilities unmatched throughout the realms of Balor. Silently she nodded.

"Now where did a child like you learn a skill such as this?", he slowly picked up a colossal axe containing the inscription ""Chaos is a GOOD friend of mine..."".

"My father", she replied coldly, reflecting on the hours spent as a young girl, helping him, billowing the furnace, the heat, the smell of coal, the blinding light cast from molten metal in darkened rooms. A distant memory… from world now changed.

She was thirteen when she first heard rumours of creatures in the countryside. Within a year Layar was in chaos. Urgently her father made arrangements to move them both to the Vale, Capital of Irum, and it's supposed safety. There they started a new life, smithing for the never-ending flow of mercenaries the region was renowned for. The hand of Shadow effects many things however, and its grip, relentless. Their first encounter with the agents of shadow proved to be her father's last. The attack on the Vale came without warning. Two giant beasts, more dog then man entered their home with a ferocity she'd never known. Her father was slain instantly as she watched from a small room upstairs... hiding… scared… alone. The smith had been killed in a room containing the finest weapons and armour in Irum, unable to wield the art he created. This irony of was not lost on Zoe. While the encounter lasted only moments, she imprinted their image in her mind, the godless eyes, coarse fur and chiselled teeth would never leave her thoughts for long.

When she emerged from the room, reborn, she made three promises to her father's lifeless body:  
1) The Silversmith's legacy and skills would live on through her  
2) She would learn to use her creations, avoiding the fate he had suffered and  
3) To seek vengeance on the monsters who had destroyed everything she held dear

After the attack, many from the Vale joined Gunther's now growing alliance having seen first-hand the danger Shadow posed. Quickly her talents in the art of smithing had been realised within the alliance, climbing ever higher through the ranks. Till now she stood, gazing on the man himself, wondering when her time for vengeance would come.


	2. Puwen Bloodhelm

The 3rd Vanguard Brigade emerged over the crest of Sunil Hill, Puwen paused. He'd never seen battle. Heard the screams of men and monsters exchanging life ending blows. A putrid smell of death hug heavy in the dusty air. It was the first time he'd witnessed the Shadow Wars true scale. On the western flank battle was well underway, hordes clashed under a dense fog of war. Explosions peppered the horizon as both factions vied for a decisive advantage.

"At arms!" His lieutenant shouted suddenly. Puwen raised his sword and the pace quickened. The men approached a gentle jog, his heart rate increased, squinting in an attempt to see their target. Initially, just glimpses of feral creatures moving in the distant fog, then silhouettes of a force, a wulven battle group, his pulse quickened. Puwen gripped his sword firmly, his heart now raced as they draw ever closer.

A horn sounded, two abrupt high frequency tones piercing to the ears of those unfortunately close to its source, then a long drawn out base tone which resonated through his very core. The battle had begun. Before the sound had finished echoing through the valley, the vanguard was under attack. An eruption of flames meter to his left spurred his pace forward. The full size of their opposition was now clear to see, thousands of monsters swelled around the pulsating maelstrom of energy he'd come to regard as a shadow gate. None of this slowed the now roaring men of the vanguard as they surged forward to meet their fate. A wulven battle group assembled and rushed into the oncoming charge creating a deafening sound of bone on metal where the two forces collided. In an instant… chaos everywhere.

Darkness. Puwen tried to stand, what happened? A dream? A nightmare? A hand grabbed his arm, on instinct he stabbed at her with the blade still firmly held in his hand right hand, deflected, disarmed. Not a dream, he'd been hit by an explosion, saved by her.

Another eruption, not of fire but thunder, all around his location, dirt and stone thrust into the air obscuring his companions features allowing only a slender female outline to be viewed as she charged off into the distance. The air remained charged with an energy he'd never experienced, forcing his hair to stand on end while he clamoured to his feet, holding his blade with conviction, choosing a target. A wulven had been isolated from the pack and now engaged in combat with an Irum Champion. The two intertwined on the ground as the wulven savagely clawed at the man's face. It took only a few strides to reach his target, raise an arm, and strike deep into the demons hide. A blood curdling yelp surged from the beast, its soulless eyes turning to face him. A second swing, this time connecting with its jaw silenced it. The beasts body went limp, a putrid smell left hanging in the air. The two men exchanged a brief glance, a silent "Thank You", nothing more.

Hit, down, pain. Puwen again tasted the blood soaked dirt. A claw stabbed deep into his shoulder. He screamed in agony, as a cold numbness washed over him. The sound of metal clashing everywhere, then a flash. The weight lifted off him. Then pain eased. He pulled himself to his knees to see a wulven savage dead at his side, smouldering scorch marks where his heart once offered life. No time to pause, he begun to maneuverer himself toward a rocky outcrop a few meters away. He'd be safe there. A sudden noise caused him to spin back toward the main battle. Another wulven hurled its mass at him, wet claws glistened in the light, teeth dripping with blood from fallen victims. A cross swing with his blade severed the beasts arm instantly, dropping it to the ground. Before the foul monsters horrified cries of pain had reached his ears, Puwen's sword was deep in its skull.

Again, he looked to the rocky outcrop, he'd be safe there. Limping through the body's of fallen comrade and beast alike, he pressed on. Allies, he thought seeing a small group of alliance solders holding off the wulven packs. A wry smile crossed his face… they could win this fight.


	3. Priest of the Light

Priest of the light

"Vullom, these are dark times" Umen's sombre tone was clear.

"No brother, these times are what we make them" Vullum replied gesturing past the Alter of Light, out the vast archway the two men currently occupied.

The grand hall of Irum towered above the green valley below. Huge open archways on the eastern, northern and southern walls allowed light to flood the hall as the sun emerged over the horizon. On a clear day the very heights of Mt. Balor itself could be seen in the distance. A hall large enough for fifty horses to gallop from archway to archway, but was only inhabited by the Council of Light, and select few they saw fit to join them. Anyone privileged enough to visit the hall claimed to feel a presence as they approached the alter. Despite the knowledge that these effects came from increased altitude, not the divine, the Order of Light did nothing to dispel the rumours, understanding the importance of such things to common men.

"And what Vullum, do you intend to make them?" Umen's tone dropping further with a hint of disappointment.

"Better. We stand on the edge of opportunity. To break the shackles of this world and rebuild it anew!"

"No, we stand on the edge of complete destruction, where Layar will be nothing more than a battle ground, and its people… casualties."

"The war is coming brother, existence of the Shadow Gates and the power of the Shadow Crystals can no longer be denied. It is our duty, our obligation, to use our knowledge to shape Balor's destiny."

"You make it sound simple" Umen said smiling softly "but we know so little of these events. Where have the crystals come from, and why are they only emerging now? Are they connected to the rise of the Shadow army? What power do they…"

Vullum interrupted exuberantly "Exactly, and we will not find the answers to these question locked in our sanctuary. The order must send out emissaries to learn the secrets of the crystals and share our knowledge with the peoples of Layar. Only in this way will we discover their true power."

Umen paused, thinking long on his brothers words. He admired the suit of armour hanging atop the archway above the alter. It's enchanted steel glistening in the light creating a holy glow. It had been hundreds of years since the priests first discovered the latent magic that existed across Balor. They had made the choice to keep its secrets hidden, to use it only to heal the sick and protect the weak. To expose their secrets now would go against the very core of the order. But Vullum was right, times were changing.

"To choose a side in a war which has not begun is foolish, but to close our eyes as a war is started would be worse. This decision will divide the order, destroying the values we hold sacred."

Again he paused, this time to glance over the lush, fertile lands of Balor. Did its people truly understand the magnitude of the looming shadow?

"Vullum, if you leave the sanctuary you will be nothing more than a Priest."

"Your wrong Umen, I will be a Priest of the Light."


	4. Champion of Irum

Champion of Irum

"Jints Journal"

Day 19

After much negotiation and repeated appearances in the Irum forum, the assembly have finally permitted me 300 days to observe and document their secretive training rituals. The first time an outsider has been approved to enter the Irum training grounds in over 400 years. The excitement is overwhelming, must be careful not to squander this gift.

Day 21

Truly fascinating. Spent today researching the Combat Arena. Inspite of my initial reservations based on its title, it revealed itself to be a beautiful Irums firm mastery of all arms illustrates they view combat as an art, to be sculpted by individuals into something wonderful. The very fabric of their society hinges on strength and aggression as everyday they strive to prove themselves worthy of membership to their chosen clan. Such discipline, the Shadow Army must fear what these Champions are capable of.

Day 23

This afternoon I was escorted the Recovery Area, something akin to the Grand Hospital in Layar. Extensive texts and paintings have been collected highlighting the techniques and innovations the Irum employ. The constant stream of casualties has undoubtedly attributed to the rapid progress in medical technology. This information will help treat the now mounting casualties of the Shadow War. Perhaps some good can come from all this senseless violence.

Day 24

I discovered Irum training begins when the child is only 4. They compete in an arena where instructors assess each child's performance. A proud day for every Irum Parent. Based on the grade assigned they progress into specialised classes. No child left out, they simply move where specific weaknesses can be supported. In this way all Irum work together to better the group. Should the rest of Balor train as the Irum do, the Shadow Army would be wiped from Balor in a matter of months.

Day 29

A group of or Irum started The Gauntlet, the final test before an Irum New Blood becomes an Irum Champion, and I was allowed to watch. It was unbelievable. A grueling 5 day assault course testing every physical element an individual poses, followed by direct combat with a with a series of beasts. Should they pass (often they don't), they are then appraised at length by the Council of Irum and subjected to a series of mental challenges. Only once all these tests has been completed would an Irum choose their clan and have their trademark shield cast. Each engraved with the clans emblem and Irum montra "I will return with my shield... or on it..."

Day 53

These people are magnificent. Having spent nearly a cycle in their presence, I now struggle to understand how we could live another way. Victory over the Shadow Army is no longer a distant fantasy. I wonder, is it coincidence the Shadow Army has not invaded Irum territory, or have they sensed their strength and chosen weaker targets?

Day 83

Stumbled across an awful truth while training. As we ran past the youth camp I witnessed an 8 year old child being executed. In shock I tried running to his aid, but was easily restrained. An Irum child must reach New Blood status by their 8th birthday. Failure to do this brings dishonor to their bloodline. Under Irum law the parents must then take the childs life publicly. Seems the Irum not only don't tolerate weakness, they actively snuff it out. What kind of creature could do this to their own flesh and blood?

Day 102

The beauty initially experienced has now been marred by reality. Clan rivalries create a constant tension as each vie for dominance. When the top clan in overthrown, its junior members are traded as slaves, while its senior members are executed. Such bloody cou's have taken place several times over the past few years and I pray I'm not here for the next.

Day 118

The shadow attacked Beltair, a small encampment west of Derun. I witnessed it. Creatures beyond the fathom of imagination. Behemoths, Gargoyles, Wulven and a host of other monsters assaulted the Baltairians without notice, and were defeated. Conflict swirls in my head. The Irum won, but showed a ferocity even the shadow don't poses. To beat a monster is it right to become a monster?

Day 150

Retaliating for the assault on Beltair. The 30 day siege of Au'Thi, a shadow city in the realm of Xire, has shown the determination of the Irum people is their greatest strength, and their greatest flaw. Refusing to retreat, countless Champions of Irum gave their lives to conquer a strategically insignificant piece of dirt. Fighting like animals, they engaged the horde, destroying everything in sight. I realise today what it will take to beat the Shadow Army. Turning people into beasts is a heavy price. Are the Irum any better than the Shadow? Or are they fighting for the same mistress?


End file.
